


What You Weren't Allowed

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: Warcraft III
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lord of the damned is an unsurprisingly disturbed person; the lord of the survivors scarcely fares better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Weren't Allowed

Kael was used to human ways insofar as an elf could ever be used to the behaviour of a species other than their own. Customs such as present exchanges on birthdays and in the name of long-gone winter gods made sense if one took into account the fragility of mortal life.

It was that same fragility that had brought him here. Jaina had taken ill - only an unpleasantly severe cold, but she'd been shivering and vomiting and deathly pale, and Kael could not help fearing for her. It was foolish and sentimental because she had to die someday, and it would be many years before his own death, but he needed her to be safe.

Jaina was a realist and fantasist, believing in the good of others beyond what Kael would have credited them with but never to the point of naivety. That was what caught him utterly; humans were so often full of energy and excitement like fast-burning candles, but dumb as animals from a lack of true forethought. Jaina might daydream but she would note attitudes people had with one another, and you could see her thinking about how best to handle whatever crisis or happy accident might occur on account of tensions in the school and elsewhere. It was why he couldn't bear to look at her in recent weeks - he'd seen her questioning glances and puzzled frowns and he knew, knew through and through her answer to any romantic request from him would be 'no', and he could ignore her with more ease than he could face up to her rejection.

In brighter days, perhaps, he might have asked her regardless of the likely outcome, but these were strange times. The humans seemed largely unaware of any change in the world but he, like all his race, could not shake a sense of foreboding. It refused to pass no matter what death or storm came that should have dispelled the atmosphere and it had made the elves tense and antsy with a distinct feeling of displacement.

Heavy boots padded down the hall, shaking Kael out of his disquieted thoughts. Thud, thud, thud; Arthas was about five times less subtle than a fireball to the face. Given Kael's study of books on stealth, the estimate was fairly accurate. "Where's Jaina? Is she alright? I heard about - oh. Good morning, Kael. Don't bother to stand up."

Kael didn't. He did, however, fold his arms a little further into his sleeves and counted to ten under his breath.

The door opened and Jaina half staggered out, red faced and bleary eyed and still the most beautiful creature Kael had ever seen. "Arthas! You came to see me! Please don't tell me you travelled all the way - Kael? How long have you been here?"

Kael opted out of answering, wishing he had a comb and a decent robe to wear, figuring he probably looked no healthier than her after two days' sleepless watch during the worst of the illness. Besides, Arthas had already cut in with "I didn't travel at all - I called in a favour with a warlock. But who cares, right? My future wife is feeling better, light be praised!"

Jaina laughed, her voice tired from days of sickness, but turned down a hug when it was offered. "I'm sorry I can't be more hospitable, I'm still recovering. Thank you both for visiting. I'd give you a kiss, but it wouldn't be worth the risk." Kael didn't believe that, and knew if Arthas felt but half what he felt for Jaina he would have taken a kiss regardless. As the situation stood, Jaina simply kissed the back of her hand before placing the palm first on Arthas' shoulder, then Kael's. "I'll see you both tomorrow, if you're staying. Sleep well."

She smiled again before returning to her bedroom, and Kael touched his shoulder, imagined he could feel the warmth where her hand had been.

"It could be worse," Arthas thought aloud after a moment before looking down at Kael. "I've never seen a sick girl look that good. What happened to your hair?"

Kael bit back a snap along the lines of 'caring for her when you were away, you imbecile', and ran a hand back through what he knew had become a mass of tangles before standing up. Arthas didn't move to get out of Kael's way, and the elf had to admit, anyone who didn't know several hundred ways to kill a human with their bare hands might have found him threatening in the bulk of paladin armour.

"Kael, we need to talk."

"Oh. How pleasant."

"See - that!" Arthas raised his arms in a frustrated gesture. "You either don't talk or you give strange answers all the time."

"Strange?"

"You say things you don't mean like you mean them."

"How eloquently you explain sarcasm. I don't like you, Arthas."

Arthas looked quite put out before he visibly regained himself, frowning a little and folding his arms. "Everyone likes paladins, except maybe trolls. It's about Jaina, isn't it?"

Kael managed not to growl but he did allow himself to bare his fang teeth in a snarl. "Everything is about Jaina."

Arthas grabbed Kael's arms and pinned them back against the wall, looking strangely wounded and clearly about to say something else until the air began to tingle with the unmistakeable aura of an archmagi and he walked off. Unsurprising really, given he was technically an intruder until he signed in with someone outside the school and while most magic students overlooked the rule, their instructors did not.

Kael greeted the passing tutor with a curt nod, though he might have thanked him for breaking Arthas' hold were it not for the fact doing so would mean getting Arthas into unwarranted trouble. Kael liked to hold to his personal code of ethics as long as possible. That, and he suddenly found himself curious as to what Arthas' response would have been.

.

_Years later_

.

Kael burned with vengeance, Northrend's weather leaving frost on the tips of his eyebrows and eyelashes he scarcely noticed. Each ghoul laid to final rest at his feet, each splatter of undead gore across his robes was a reminder of how satisfied fury tasted. Illidan had promised this much at the start of the battle and even if Kael had not sworn loyalty to the demon hunter, even if Kael hadn't been introduced in spectacular fashion to what a man offered a woman could not, that chance to kill undead would be reason enough to fight at Illidan's side. Fire seemed to fill his veins as the damned creatures fell apart into ashes before him, and blood thirst rendered him blind to the fact everything was falling far too easily before him.

A flash of tarnished silver and Kael was proven foolish, lured too close to the enemy encampment and suddenly at the mercy of Arthas and his army. The battle was brief, Kael's low mana and comparative lack of strength in melee combat sealing his fate to end up pinned against a tree with Arthas' hand on his neck. Seemingly arrogant as ever, the paladin - no, _death knight_ Kael reminded himself - dismissed his troops. Kael prayed under his breath to the gods that had forgotten this land to let Arthas gloat, knowing it would give him a chance to gather his mana and escape into the darkness. "How does it feel to be so inferior?"

Kael thanked whoever had heard him in the silence of his mind, gave Arthas bait by refusing to dignify the question with a response. Arthas had often made the mistake of confusing silence with weakness, a trait Kael hoped the death knight had retained. "I always thought the prowess of magi was overrated. Dresses and staffs indeed." He grinned, something skeletal about the smile that Kael couldn't and didn't want to place, before pushing Kael's robes and shoulder plates off and to the floor.

_Oh_, Kael caught himself thinking a little stupidly, before finding himself outright furious and barely able to contain it. Arthas had taken everything else belonging to him, and he thought this could possibly add anything to the hatred he already felt for the bastard?

Arthas tugged Kael's undershirt loose and pulled it up, that malicious smile widening further. "Oh, it is good to see a rumour confirmed."

Kael held his breath as cold, metal-covered digits traced the scars on his stomach, the sharp tips involuntarily reminding him of Illidan's claws and sending blood to his groin that he could have done without. Damn his anger for making his pulse race when the rest of him held steady.

"These definitely aren't Thalassian words. What does that demon do to you?" Kael grit his teeth as the fingertips traced their way around to his back and down to where the scratches stopped forming words but nonetheless were eloquent in telling another story. "So you take from him what you could never give to Jaina." The grin changed again as Arthas pulled Kael's pants down to his knees and closed that cold, hard, frighteningly sharp-edged hand around his half-erect cock.

Kael swallowed down a gasp as he hardened further at the touch, cursed himself for almost voicing a reaction. His body could betray him as it liked, as long as he kept the rest of himself under control. "It's a pity you never got to appreciate her touch. I've forgotten how to enjoy the memory. But I remember everything." Arthas squeezed tighter, eyes focused on Kael's lips. "She was smooth and warm. Unkempt." Kael swallowed reflexively when Arthas tightened the grip on his neck and a cold tongue worked its way from his chin up to the middle of his ear. "She kept her eyes open and the lights on so she could see exactly -" The hand on his erection, warming up from his body heat, moved further up his shaft and ran its thumb over the head, forcing Kael to bite his cheeks and squeeze his eyes shut to avoid crying out. He'd been vocal over dreams of Jaina and had screamed under Illidan's more than capable touch but he would not give Arthas the satisfaction of wringing a sound from him. "- Exactly what I was doing to her. She tasted like salt. Food never tastes the same after you've licked a woman's core." Now. He could come now, and he let himself do it, the orgasm weak and shallow but that was perfect, it couldn't drain him of the energy he needed to escape.

Arthas caught Kael's chin in slick metal fingers and licked the elf's cheek, grinning as if thoroughly proud of himself. "Live and hate me, Kael. I don't think anyone will ever hate me quite like you do." Pulling away then to summon his steed, and Kael dressed quickly, knowing whether Arthas ordered them to halt or not the undead in the vicinity would come running as soon as their leader disappeared. "Jaina was never as interesting as you."

Arthas sped off, leaving Kael to thrash a handful of over-zealous ghouls before making his uncomfortable, self-chastising journey back to Illidan's camp.

.

Illidan had a presence you could feel on your skin from miles around, if you knew what you were looking for. Like any hunter worth his salt he could disguise the aura at will but more often than not he was proud to broadcast his presence, and it made reaching his side easy even in the darkness.

Illidan took a break from binding magic to regard Kael, nostrils slightly flared, reading his senses for information as to why the elf had been absent. "Arthas' spit is on you."

"Yes, master."

Illidan growled quietly under his breath, briefly returned to his workings with magic long enough to activate another rune. "He made you enjoy it. Consider it another reason to hate him."

Kael nodded and began to step down from the platform, silently relieved his lord's anger was towards Arthas rather than himself, but found himself stayed by a clawed hand on his shoulder. "Yes, my lord?"

"Death tastes like ash for a reason," Illidan began, and Kael wondered what his master's eyes would have said if they still functioned normally. "Death does not know passion. Arthas tried to take what he can't have for himself." A pause as Illidan felt for Kael's chin, before leaning to lick the path Arthas' tongue had traced earlier and ending with a far too brief kiss, reminding the elf prince of what Arthas had not taken. "Quel'thalas left flames in your heart he can't extinguish."

Kael let Illidan's lips return to his again, the second kiss pleasant but not distracting enough. Illidan might have the only powers on this world to compare with Arthas' own but he did not understand the death knight. He saw only an undead, where Kael knew there was something left of the brash paladin boy in his enemy. Arthas still had the creative malevolence of a mortal, and Kael couldn't find the words to tell Illidan he was wrong.

Lady Vashj emerged from the shadows, ignoring the situation to announce the success of her reconnaissance mission with the naga and sounding impatient to move. Every inch of Kael willed Illidan to join her later, to stay with him and let him find a moment to warn his master, but it seemed he had used up his luck for the time being in staying alive after the ambush. Illidan wished him elsewhere, protecting the camp as if Kael had never tired of mundane duties during his alliance with the humans, and Kael had little choice but to obey. He had sworn to serve Illidan first, protect him second.

Kael glanced at the naga accompanying him back to the base and prayed under his breath for Arthas to underestimate Illidan as he underestimated the elven survivors, cursed the silence of manners, and hoped he would live to see Arthas fall at their feet.

.

The End


End file.
